Life's Like That - Sometimes
by cherrydust
Summary: A classic love triangle has sprung up between Yohji, Ken, and - Omi?
1. Those Crummy Moments We Call...Life

_Life's Like That - Sometimes_

_Chapter One: Those Crummy Moments We Call…Life_

            Omi clenched his teeth and pulled a pillow over his head as the steady sounds of a bed moving and of uneven breathing filled his mind. "Shut up, shut up, shut *UP*," he hissed at the wall, tensing at the gasps and moans that were now being sounded, growing steadily in volume. He closed his eyes, waiting for what he *knew* was coming next…

            "Y-Y-Y-*YOHJI*! OH GOD *YOHJI*!"

            Omi gnashed his teeth and rolled onto his stomach at the sounds Ken was making in the next room. It was bad enough they were so damned lovey-dovey in the day. Bad enough he had to cover double-shifts because Yohji kept whisking Ken off for an afternoon of passion. Bad enough he had to actually *listen* to the two make love at all hours of the day and night. And it was definitely, the worst of all, that he got absolutely *no* sleep anymore. And the worst, worst, WORST of it was that he wasn't getting any so he couldn't even get revenge by keeping *them* up the few nights they decided to sleep.

            And to complicate matters even more, Omi had a crush on Yohji.

            Yes, a crush. Omi wasn't sure how bad off he was, but he was sure it was pretty bad. Bad enough that he'd gotten to the point of stealing Yohji's clothes out of the laundry so he'd have *something* of the blonde's. Bad enough he wandered into liquor and tobacco stores, loving the smell because it reminded him of Yohji. So bad he'd even helped Yohji arrange a romantic evening for him and Ken on their first anniversary – not because he supported their relationship, but because one look into those jade eyes and Omi was totally won over. If Yohji had looked into his eyes, and then told him to go eat mud, he'd do it. Simply because Yohji said so.

            Omi let out a frustrated moan and angrily slipped out of bed, storming out of his room and towards the room besides his that fairly reeked of sex. He knocked loudly, adding on second thought, "YOHJI! KEN! OPEN UP!" just incase they couldn't hear his knocks over their own labored breathing. There was the faintest squeaking of bedsprings, the sudden flurry of sheets being rearranged and the sound of Yohji cursing before the door opened.

            "Omi? What're you doing up?" Yohji demanded, faking a yawn that completely contradicted the sounds Omi had been hearing and the fact he was covered in sweat, and that he hadn't even bothered to put his pajama pants on right.

            Omi rolled his eyes, forcing back the desire to reach forward and fix Yohji's pants – something that would have resulted in a mortified Omi, a hysterical Yohji, and a furious Ken. Oh God, he could hear the jealous soccer player's yells now: Don't you dare lay a hand on Yohji! Especially below the waist, you twisted little brat! If Omi had been able to gain some sleep in the past few weeks, he might have found humor enough in his own thoughts to smile.

            Unfortunately he hadn't so nothing humorous was to be found in the situation.

            "You *know* perfectly well why I'm up," Omi said, glaring up at the older man and adding a scowl for good measure.

            Yohji feigned innocence. "No I don't. Did your Internet connection time out or somethin'?"

            "No it did NOT! I was NOT online at TWO IN THE MORNING! I was TRYING TO SLEEP unlike SOME people, Yohji-KUN!"

            "What are you saying, bishounen?" Yohji asked, leaning down until he was eye-to-eye with a furious Omi.

            Blink.

            "Nothing," Omi replied dreamily, fixating his eyes on Yohji's. Ooh…he was fairly melting in their green depths…

            "Okay then. Good night."

            Slam.

            Blink.

            Realization sunk in.

            And…ouch.

            Omi glared at the closed door and stormed back to his own room, yanking down the sheets and crawling into bed and letting out a despairing cry as he realized he'd thrown his sheets onto the floor. Grumbling profusely, he crawled down the length of the bed to gather the sheets up, only to hear the two next door starting up again as he settled against the headboard. Omi let out a whimpering moan. "Nooo…" he sniffled at the situation and pulled the covers up over his head and burrowed underneath his pillow, hoping to block out the sounds.

            No such luck. He could hear Yohji's gasps…and…Omi sat upright, his face burning as the sounds became very clear. Yohji was playing *submissive*? Oh God…Omi's face was burning a brilliant red as all sorts of images popped into his mind, all involving an uke Yohji. Omi clamped his hands over his ears and lay back down, desperately trying to chase away the thoughts that kept arising without his consent.

            _Think about…um…nice cold showers. Mmm…think about Yohji in the shower – d-oh! No! Think about math! Think about how…one plus one equals two. Two plus two equals four. Yohji plus Omi equals- AGH! STOP! Um…think about flowers! Think about that flower arrangement you're making, the one with the c__attleyas __ – Yohji loves c__attleyas_ _…d-oh! Think about…oh, anything but Yohji!_

Tossing and turning, Omi was sure he'd never get a wink of sleep that night. But as the sounds in the room next to him slowly quieted and as the tolls of being a teenage boy, an assassin, and having over-worked hormones worked on him, he fell asleep quickly and deeply.

            Thinking very hard about how he would NOT think about Yohji anymore that night.

#@#@#@

            "Where's Ken?" Yohji wondered aloud, stumbling down the stairs around ten the next morning. He yawned and headed straight for the coffeepot. Ten a.m. was *very* early after all, considering the time he had finally collapsed from sheer exhaustion last night and all.

            Aya shrugged and turned a page of the business section, his upper lip drawing back into a snarl as whatever he read did not meet with his approval. "Stocks are going down again," he complained.

            "Great. I'm so thrilled to hear it," Yohji replied dryly, drinking noisily from his coffee mug.

            Aya looked up at glare at the blonde. "Idiot. Stocks going down are NOT GOOD! And don't slurp when you drink, you slovenly pig."

            Yohji slurped louder.

            "Good morning!" Aya scowled at the unsuitably happy greeting and Yohji's face lit up as Ken bounded into the kitchen, his hands full envelopes. "I got the mail!"

            "Who delivers mail in the morning?" Aya grumbled, looking disgusted as Yohji proceeded to pull the brunette into a long, drawn-out kiss. "This isn't a freaking burlesque house!"

            "You're just sore 'cause *you* haven't got anyone," Yohji said, giving Aya a dirty look as he released Ken.

            Ken stumbled a few steps back from him, an even bigger grin on his face than before. "Aya, you got some mail. Something from a hosp-" Aya jerked the envelope out of Ken's hand before the soccer player could finish. Ken gaped and added touchily, "And you got something else but if you're gonna be such a creep about it-" Aya tore that out of Ken's hand too.

            "I'm never getting the mail again," Ken insisted, turning back to his lover and flashing him a smile. "You got lots of letters, Yohji," Ken said, glowering as he figured most of them were from the fan girls that still flocked their shop daily.

            Yohji accepted the pile Ken was handing to him and flipped through it, before throwing the whole stack in the trash, unopened. "Wasteful," Aya stated. "We could've used their stamps again and saved money!"

            Yohji arched an eyebrow at him. "You're crazy, Aya."

            "Why'd you throw them all away?" Ken pressed.

            Yohji gave him a cheery smile, "'Cause they weren't from you, Kenken." Ken glowed and Aya looked inclined to being sick at such cheery, open affection.

            A moment later, a haggard and exhausted looking Omi stumbled into the kitchen. "Good morning," Ken said pleasantly, opening the refrigerator. "You want some orange juice too, Omi?" Ken went on, pouring himself a glass.

            "No," Omi replied, looking sourly at him and sounding *very* cranky.

            "Something wrong?" Ken asked, sitting down next to Omi and taking a long drink of orange juice.

            _Yes. You and your boyfriend keep me up all night and you keep making thing dirty thoughts so my innocent reputation is being tarnished and what makes it worse, I've got a huge crush on your boyfriend and if he doesn't stop smiling like that at you I'm gonna SCREAM!_

"No. Just tired." Omi yawned and lay his head down on the table, closing his eyes. "I couldn't sleep last night."

            "Wonder why," Yohji said, smirking at the blonde and finishing his coffee. He sighed and stretched before heading out the kitchen, pausing to drop a kiss on Ken's forehead and to ruffle Omi's hair.

            Ken smiled happily at the attention and reached across the table to steal the Sports section from Aya while Omi looked furious at Yohji's treatment at him. "I'm not five freaking years old," he grumbled.

            "Did you say something, bishounen?" Ken asked absently.

            Omi's eyes widened. "DON'T YOU DARE CALL ME THAT! THAT'S *YOHJI'S* NAME FOR ME!"

            Ken and Aya both looked up at the sheer velocity of Omi's voice, but it was too late. Omi was gone. "What's wrong with him?" Ken wondered.

            Aya simply smirked and turned to the International News sections.

#@#@#@

            "Hey." Ken jolted as a pair of warm arms slid around his waist from behind and a warm pair of lips nipped tenderly at his neck.

            Ken smiled as he recognized his lover and relaxed into his arms. "Yohji. Don't sneak up on me like that."

            Green eyes opened to stare adoringly up at him. "You know you love it." Ken shook his head, a small smile playing on his lips. A mischievous smile spread across Yohji's lips in return and he nudged Ken playfully in the back with his hip. "C'mon. Say you love it." Ken tried to suppress a smile and shook his head, dark brown strands falling into his eyes as he did so. Yohji's smile widened at this surprisingly cute and vulnerable gesture and he reached out to brush the strands away, still murmuring coaxingly, "C'mon, say you love it." No response. "Keeen…"

            "I don't, I hate it when you sneak up on me." But the upturning of his lips betrayed his words and dark eyes laughed recklessly at Yohji.

            "Liar," Yohji growled low in Ken's ear. "You know what happens to boys who lie, Ken?"

            "No, I don't. Enlighten me, O Wise Yohji-kun."

            Yohji slipped over the sarcasm to say instead, "They get punished, Kenken."

            "O horrors," Ken replied dryly, turning around in Yohji's arm sand pushing against his chest lightly, applying just enough pressure to send Yohji stumbling a few steps away. "Tsk tsk, Yohji, we're supposed to be working on flower arrangements. Aya will have your head."

            "And what about yours," Yohji returned, smiling at the rebuke and straightening his apron as he turned to water some flowers.

            "I'll blame it all on you." Ken stuck his tongue out at his lover and got sprayed in the face with the hose for his efforts. Dripping and shocked, Ken simply stared before shouting in outrage, "YOHJI!"

            "What was that about blaming it all on me?" the blonde replied, waving the dripping hose at Ken threateningly.

            "Oh, now this is *war*, Kudou," Ken growled, picking up a large handful of potting soil.

            Yohji was laughing. "What are you going to do to me, Ken? Beat me with a flow-HEY!" Yohji gasped in astonishment as he was hit in the face with a handful of soil. "I'M GONNA KICK YOUR ASS HIDAKA!"

            "Maybe you'd rather kiss it," Ken replied sweetly, turning and presenting the object in question for Yohji's perusal. The blonde sprayed him again with the hose and Ken yelped, throwing more soil at him.

            Yohji glared, blonde strands weighed down with dirt hanging limply in front of his eyes. "Ne, Yohji," Ken protested nervously, taking a step back as Yohji took one menacing step forward. "Don't look so scary!"

            "Run." Yohji growled out his warning before lunging at the brunette. Ken burst into a fit of laughter, jumping out of the way just before Yohji's hands caught hold of him. "Run *fast*," Yohji clarified as Ken stared at him, wide-eyed and laughing. Ken's eyes widened even more and he began to run, the lanky form of his lover close behind him. "Gotcha!" Yohji cried out as he wrapped his arms fiercely around Ken and knocked them both over into several huge backs of topsoil, sending up a cloud of dirt and laughter.

            "You stupid idiot," Ken grumbled, propping himself up on one arm to glare down at the other man who was lying flat on his back, his body shaking with silent laughter and his eyes closed. "You got us both all wet and dirty."

            Yohji cracked open why eye to give him a little smirk and managed to stop laughing long enough to say, "Great. We can take a shower together and get all nice and clean."

            "You mean so you can get a nice lay," Ken replied, the laughter in his eyes contradicting his fierce scowl.

            Yohji grinned up at the man who was currently dripping water all over him and pulled him down to give him a firm kiss, saying, "Come here. You look cute when you're wet."

#@#@#@

            Omi bit down fiercely on his lower lip, turning away from the undeniably sweet scene he had just witnessed. In everything that they did, they seemed to be so matched and affectionate and…and so in goddamned love! Tears were smarting in blue eyes and he lifted a trembling hand to dash away at them, leaving a streak of dirt across his face. Oh God, he was so stupid. After witnessing a scene like *that* between the two…there was little hope he could ever intrude.

            And he didn't even want to. What made it all the worse was that Omi was genuinely happy that his friends had been able to find love and happiness despite their line of work and the pasts they'd both worked to overcome. And yet…he *so* wished they hadn't found it in each other.

            Omi sniffled, bringing up his dirt-covered hand to wipe at his again and his nose this time too. It wasn't fair. Not only did he have to deal with normal teenage angst, he had to deal with the fact he was a teen with gay tendencies, he had to sleep in the room next to his object of affections and his lover, *and* he had to be an assassin.

            Omi sneezed pitifully. And he had allergies. Life really sucked at times.

            Aya turned around to glare at Omi. "What the hell d'you think you're doing, just sitting there, when there's flowers to be sold? And where the hell is Kudou and his little bed warmer? There's money to be made out here!" Omi stared up at him with huge, pathetic, teary blue eyes. Aya scowled at him. "WELL? Get to work!"

            Omi sighed as he headed back towards the front of the shop, leaving Aya to discover Ken and Yohji fooling around in the backroom.

            This was one of those sucky moments Life threw at you sometimes for *sure*.

TBC…

AN: Oh dear, poor Omi-kun. I suppose I'll hafta write more and sort this all out, ne? But then…we all know what fic-writers crave…reviews…no pressure though. ^^;; Hope you enjoyed what I've got written so far and happy Weiss-ing! [Not that that makes sense in the slightest bit but whatever :p]


	2. Oops!

_Life's Like That - Sometimes_

_Chapter Two: Oops!_

            Omi bit his lip nervously as he gazed out the kitchen window towards the back porch where he could make out the dim outline of a tall man and the faintly glowing end of a cigarette. He desperately wanted to go out and talk to him but…Omi wasn't Ken. And he knew nothing was going to make Yohji smile but seeing Ken. Omi frowned at the thought, Yohji probably didn't want to see him anyway since it was *his* fault Yohji wasn't with Ken. If the mission hadn't only required two people…if Omi hadn't had his exams that week…and if Aya wasn't so outspoken about hating cigarettes…Ken wouldn't have gone with Aya on the mission. Granted, then it would be Ken sitting out there looking forlorn rather than Yohji…but Omi didn't exactly have a *crush* on Ken. 

            The kettle on the stove whistled loudly, jarring Omi out of his thoughts. Omi sighed and glared the kettle and after a moment's thought, lifted it off the stove. He would bring Yohji some tea and try to cheer him up a little. After all, Aya and Ken were going to be gone a week – it wouldn't do to have a despairing housemate for the week.

#@#@#@

            Yohji looked up as he heard someone fumbling with the screen door, muttering under their breath as they finally kicked it open and made it onto the porch without getting caught in it's back swing. A faint smile played on his lips, for a brief moment Omi had sounded almost like Ken. "I brought you some tea," Omi said timidly, pausing a few feet away from where Yohji was sitting.

            "Thanks." Yohji didn't move and after a moment, Omi sat down next to him on the steps and handed him his tea.

            "You okay?" Omi asked, cupping his own cup of tea tightly in his hands, attempting to hide their trembling.

            "Yeah."

            Well. This was certainly proving to be fruitful. Omi stared into the sweet-smelling liquid and frowned fiercely into it. This was the last opportunity for a long time he might have to be alone with Yohji and *damned* if he wasn't going to make the most of it. "You wanna talk about it?"

            Green eyes threw him an askance look. "What's to talk about? They're on a mission, they'll be back in a week and until then, you can sleep at night." Clean-cut lips turned up into a brief smile that didn't quite reach to his eyes, a smile that was covered quickly as Yohji lifted his cup and sipped at it cautiously, testing the temperature.

            "Well…you haven't been away from Ken for longer than a few hours since you guys…you know," Omi said uncomfortably, unsure of where he was going with this. "I just thought you might be…lonely."

            "Why would I be lonely? I've got *you* here, chibi. I'm not alone."

            Omi bit his lip to refrain from snapping at Yohji. _I'm not a chibi – or a bishounen. I'm just Omi! Just Omi, plain and simple. Stop calling me those stupid, half-degrading nicknames. Call me Omi or nothing at all._ But instead, he said, "It's not the same though, now is it? I mean, I'm not going to do much for you since I've got school. You'll be here – alone."

            "Nope. Still not alone. I've got the girls at the shop to contend with." Yohji threw him a remembrance of his old grin, a grin of the playboy Omi hadn't seen since the day a little over a year ago when Ken had blurted out in his clumsy and still sweet way his feelings for Yohji.

            "That's not the same and you know it. They're not and I'm not gonna hold you or listen the way he does or make you feel the way he does! You're lonely for him already, you're just too damn stupid to admit it and I don't even know why I bothered coming out here! You don't want anyone to cheer you up, you just want to sit out here and feel sorry for yourself!" Omi glared and jumped to his feet, his face flushed with anger and embarrassment at his own feelings for the older blonde. Dark emerald eyes stared up at him and Omi wanted to scream at the look of astounded feeling in them.

            _What is it, Yohji-kun? Can't you believe I'm not just going to smile sweetly and just sit down and not say anything? Are you surprised because I'm showing I've got more to me than a cute, stupid little, dumb little, ditzy kid? Don't look at me like that; I hate it when you look at me like that! It makes me feel like I've done something wrong…don't make me feel like that. Please, Yohji…I'm begging you…just don't make me feel anything anymore…_

            "Omi-," Yohji began, staring up at him, surprised at his sudden outburst. "I-"

            "Never mind, Yohji-kun," Omi muttered, looking down, his teeth clamping down on his lower lip and his hands clenched into fists. Yohji stared at as stance, astonished at the way Omi's body was heaving. _Is he trying not to cry? _"Just-never mind, I shouldn't tell you how to feel, I don't have any right to. I'm sorry, I – I have to go. Good night, Yohji-kun."

            And with that, he turned and nearly ran into the house, slamming the screen door shut behind him. Yohji blinked and slowly shook his head. "He left his tea out here. I wonder what's wrong with the bishounen?"

#@#@#@

            "Oi. Omi-kun." Omi glanced up from where he was doggedly working on a flower arrangement to see Yohji standing in the doorway, blonde strands falling limply in front of shaded eyes and a repentant smile on his lips. "Are you hungry?" Omi shrugged slightly in response and Yohji continued the same as if he'd answered aloud. "I was hoping you were because there's this new restaurant that opened downtown and I've been meaning to check it out – but the food there is too spicy for Ken, you know he isn't good with foods that have a lot of zing to 'em."

            _Of course I know. A year ago when you thought Ken didn't know you existed, you told me all this. You told me everything about him, and how you loved every aspect of him and I wanted to die. I'm dying right now, Yohji do you know that? I'm dying inside right now because you're trying to make up for making me angry last night without knowing why and it's killing me. You're too good Yohji. Why can't you be a creep? Why do you have to make me keep loving you?_

"Omi?" Yohji said his name gently, coming up behind him and clasping his hand over Omi's, startling the younger boy so badly he dropped the clippers he was using and knocked over the whole flower arrangement, his face burning a brilliant red the whole while. "Damn it Omi, you klutz, you're gonna kill yourself!" Yohji shouted as Omi dove out of the way of the falling - *sharp*- clippers.

            "Yohji!" Omi shrieked as Yohji stepped towards him and the clippers fell, sharp ends pointed downward, on him. Yohji gave a tiny jolt of surprise and after a moment, a hiss of pain as he lifted his leg to see the blood seeping through his pant leg. "I'm so sorry!" Omi wailed as he too noticed the blood as Yohji rolled up his pant leg to inspect the damage. "Are you okay?"

            Yohji stared at him incredulously. "Well…I'm not dead. But…" Yohji gave Omi a wry grin. "I don't think I'm up to taking you out after all."

            Omi gave him a sheepish smile in return and reached out his hand. "Do you need help getting inside? You need to take care of that."

            "No, no I can walk," Yohji, insisted, brushing Omi off and limping towards the door that led into the house. He paused in the doorway, one hand covering the wound on his leg and he said loftily, "You might want to, um, close up the shop soon."

            Omi nodded, wiping his hands off on his apron and running over to the metal door, straining up on his tip-toes to slam it shut, the metal clanging echoing throughout the shop as he tore off his apron and tossed it onto the counter he'd been working at, running into the house to see Yohji sitting at the kitchen table, his leg propped up on another chair in front of him to inspect the damage. Holding his breath, Omi neared the older man, peering over his shoulder at the injured leg. After a brief moment, Yohji glanced over his shoulder to see Omi sweat dropping. "It's not that bad. It's just a lot of bleeding…chill out, Omi. Just go get me a damp cloth to stop the bleeding and…a really thick bandage."

            "H-Hai." Omi nodded and swallowed thickly, stumbling into the bathroom across the hall and fumbling through the medicine cabinet, knocking the first-aid kit to the floor. With a cry of self-disgust, Omi knelt on the floor and quickly cut a length of gauze from the rather large roll. Cuts, scrapes, and other such injuries were no stranger to the assassins…only Omi couldn't really recall ever being injured in the shop. _Klutz._

Clutching the precious gauze to his chest, Omi ran back into the kitchen and thrust the gauze at Yohji as he passed the older man on his way to fetch the desired damp cloth. Yohji blinked at the sheer blurred speed Omi was moving with and after a moment, shook his head sharply, gazing up at Omi as if to bring him back into focus. "Ah…um…thanks," Yohji muttered, accepting the damp cloth and applying it to his wound.

            "I'm so sorry," Omi whimpered, dropping into a seat across from Yohji and propping his hands up to bury his face in them. "I'm such an idiot, I could've really hurt you…"

            "Don't sweat it, kid." Yohji managed a cheerful smile as he wrapped the bandage around his wound and unrolled his pant leg to cover it. "You're probably stressing from exams and it's making you clumsy. Happened to me in school." Experimentally, Yohji stood and tested his weight on the injured leg. It held without too much pain and Yohji went to toss the soiled cloth into the laundry room and replace the remainder of the bandage. Upon returning, he saw Omi was still slumped over at the table, still hiding his face in his hands.

            Sighing, Yohji went over to the stricken boy and rested his hand his shoulder. "Omi," he said in a slightly playful, slightly admonishing tone. "It's *okay*. I'm fine, I'm going to *stay* fine and I don't hold you responsible or plan to put you on our next target list or *anything*." Omi looked up at him, his eyes unusually bright and his face miserable. Yohji made a slight tsking sound and cupped Omi's chin in his hands. "You're so soft-hearted for an assassin."

            "I know," Omi whispered, his eyes lowering and looking away from Yohji. _Stop looking at me like this. It…it feels like you care. A lot more than you do…should. Go away now…go call Ken…just leave me alone, I think I'm going to cry if you stay._

"Mm…well, are you still up for some food? We can order something in…or I could make you my specialty!"

            Unwilling, Omi smiled at this last statement. "What's you specialty?" Omi asked, amusement heavily present in his voice as he looked up to meet Yohji's eyes again.

            "Instant soup and beer," Yohji replied promptly.

            Omi laughed quietly at this. "Um…let's order something, okay?"

            "Good idea." Yohji beamed at this choice and crossed the room to open the drawer where take-out menus were kept in endless supply. Four single men living together without any real interest in homemaking left much to be desired in the culinary aspect. "What do you want?"

            "You pick, I'll like anything you like." Omi managed another smile as he added, "You're the one who's hurt, anyway."

            "Hmph." Yohji made a face at this and Omi felt his heart skip a beat as the look disappeared and was replaced with a warm, slightly sensuous smile. _Why do you have to be so gorgeous, so wonderful…and so completely out-of-reach?_

            "I hope you like pizza," Yohji said, hanging up the food. "I wanted something messy and greasy and something that Aya would never approve of. There's no point in him being gone if we're not going to live it up a little." A smirk crossed his face. "And with that in mind…thirsty Omi?" And Omi watched with slightly surprised interest as Yohji opened the refrigerator and handed him a beer.

            "…I'm underage."

            "And you shouldn't be killing people either," Yohji pointed out logically, kicking the refrigerator closed and opening his own can. After a long drink, he looked at the drink in Omi's hand pointedly, saying, "Might as well live now if you'll die tomorrow."

            Slowly, Omi's fingers pulled the tab back and slower yet; he closed his eyes and took a sip of beer. _Anything you want, Yohji._

#@#@#@

            "I'm cold," Omi mumbled out, stumbling into the den and rubbing his bare arms unhappily. He gave Yohji a bleary, accusing look. "What time is it?"

            "I dunno." Yohji shrugged and crashed into the couch. "Hey look, Omittichi, there's a blanket on the couch," Yohji exclaimed with delight, his words slightly slurred and blending together. "C'mere and get warm, chibi."

            "Dun call me that," Omi snapped out, managing to make his way over to the couch without *too* much stumbling. With a loud, relieved sigh, he sank into the couch, grabbing the blanket and managing to tangle it around himself.

            "Gimme some blanket. M'cold too!"

            "Get your OWN."

            Tug tug. "Omi! I want some blanket!"

            Yank yank. "Yohji! It's MY blanket."

            Jade eyes narrowed into a slightly drunken glare. "Well I dun see your name on it or nothin'!"

            "Well…" Omi paused, struggling with a good argument. "You got me drunk! I get the blanket 'cos I'm the cute'n innocent one!"

            "Fuck," Yohji retorted in his usual 'clever' style. "Thas the biggest load of shit I ever heard. An' I've heard a LOT of shit." His words were still coming out in a slight slur, but his mind was clearing and already, Omi could hear a change in the articulation of Yohji's voice.

            _As soon as he sobers completely, he's going to remember he's Ken's. And then he'll let me have the blanket and move away from the sofa_, Omi thought sadly, gazing at Yohji with sad eyes. Yohji misread the expression in blue eyes though and said in a cheery, gentle tone, "Oi, Omi-kun, tell ya what. We'll *share* the blanket, 'kay?"

            And Omi watched with slight amazement as Yohji lifted the blanket up and spread it over the two of them, carefully pulling it up and tucking it around each of their shoulders. "There. Snug as a bug, or whatever the hell that stupid expression is." Yohji smiled at him and sighed, stretching in a catlike fashion before relaxing in the cushions. "All we need now is a fire or some family movie and the cheesy heart-warming scene will be complete, ne Omi?"

            "Mmm." Omi, suddenly, had a very naughty idea. An idea that was completely unlike him. And idea that was astonishingly…Yohji-like. Sighing, Omi carefully scrunched down on the couch until his head was resting on Yohji's shoulder, his legs lifting to tuck underneath him. "Mmm!" Omi sighed again, louder this time as he snuggled up next to Yohji.

            Yohji jolted slightly. "Hey, bishounen, what're you doing? You can't fall…asleep…there…" Yohji's voice trailed off as Omi's arm locked firmly around his waist, golden lashes caressing faintly blushed cheeks as Omi's breathing pattern steadied into one of sleep. "Well. I guess one night on the couch couldn't hurt."

            And with a gentle smile, Yohji turned off the light, resting one arm lightly around Omi. The kid was, he reflected, not that bad. He wasn't Ken but…still, not that bad. Not bad at all.

#@#@#@

            Omi awoke a few hours later with a crick in his back and a hot flush on his face as he felt his body reacting in *strange* ways to Yohji's proximity. Delicately, he tried to slide out from under the lanky blonde's embrace, but was instead clutched tighter to the older man. And with a tiny gasp, Omi realized *exactly* what kind of dream Yohji was indulging in.

            _Oh God, oh God, Oh God, ohgodohgodohgodohGOD! This can't be happening. This is NOT happening. What am I going to DO? What *should* I do? This is my entire fault; if I hadn't decided to play at being coy we wouldn't BE in this situation – what the hell? Is he pulling me closer-?_ Omi blushed hugely, trying desperately to push Yohji away from him.

            Yohji responded by pulling him closer, his eyes opening just enough to show a glint of green as his lips pressed lightly against Omi's.

            Omi froze.

            _OH SHIT!_

"Mmm…" Yohji sighed against the kiss, his tongue flicking out to lightly caress Omi's lips. _Ken is going to kill me. But…_ Omi suddenly felt very, very un-Omi-like. His mind flitted back to his scheming of a few hours ago, faking falling asleep on Yohji's shoulder to trick the blonde into cuddling. _What Ken doesn't know…won't hurt him._

            And then, closing his mind to reason and his eyes, Omi opened his mouth to receive more of Yohji's kisses.

            _*This* is what I have been dreaming of for…for…_ Omi's eyes flew open as he tried to recollect when he had first fallen for Yohji. He had known the older blonde since he was at least 14…three years, maybe four? _So long…dammit Yohji, this had better be as good as those years of waiting made it out to be._

And it was, for a brief period. The feel of Yohji's mouth against his, the feel of their bodies, hot and wanting melding against each other's, the sheer blissful taste of a long wait rewarded. It was perfect. It was more than perfect, it was the Heaven Omi had been dreaming of until-

            "Mmm…God…*Ken*…"

            Omi's eyes widened, his hands flying out and pushing Yohji away hard enough the older blonde went tumbling onto the floor, effectively waking him up. Jade eyes were horrified and shocked as they met hurt blue that were rapidly filling with tears. "K-Ken?" Omi whimpered out, his voice shaky with disbelief.

            "Omi…I…please don't…I…" Yohji stumbled over his words, trying his best to stand up, his feet tangled up in the couch.

            "No…s'my fault…I'll go…" ducking his head, his face burning, Omi rushed past Yohji, the half-asleep man doing his best to apologize.

            "Omi…no…let me talk to you…"

            "There's nothing to talk about," Omi shouted from his bedroom, his voice slightly muffled. Before Yohji could yell back, the door slammed, hard enough that the pictures hanging on the wall of the den rattled.

            Yohji sighed, dropping back onto the couch and leaning forward, burying his face into his hands, summing up the situation in his usual eloquent manner:

            "Fuck."

TBC

AN: Sorry for the lengthy time between updates. No excuse, just sheer laziness. I'll try to be speedier, but no promises. Promises just get me into a lot of trouble. ^^;; C&C always appreciated, flames useless in the Florida weather, and nagging about updating turns off all interest in the fic.

Btw, this chapter was partially motivated by seeing the 4th Weiss DVD - *sob* Poor Botan. ;-; *zips lip* No more spoiler. ^^;; *shoos* Review and recommend me to all your Weiss-friends! Whee! *shuts up for real now*


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